


Come Undone

by 4vrAFangirl



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Disabled Character, Colonist (Mass Effect), Denial of Feelings, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Lovers to Friends, Physical Disability, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Acceptance, Self-Denial, Self-Doubt, Slow Burn, Survivor Guilt, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Temporary Character Death, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, War Hero (Mass Effect)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 16:40:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6202885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4vrAFangirl/pseuds/4vrAFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a lot easier to ignore and dismiss his crush, when he'd been able to tell himself it wasn't allowed because of their careers, rather than to own up he'd lost her to another man. Because the Commander doesn't seem to have any problem with a man who's also in Alliance blues, just him. And Joker would never admit as much, but his heart may just be as fragile as the rest of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Kind of 'I Love You'

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like there's probably a good deal of irony at work here that what really got this story in a SciFi fandom off the ground was my WiFi failing, and prompting me to go through some old writing notebooks and re-reading notes about fics I wanted to write. It being a story for an older fandom, I don't expect this to get much traffic, but it is fandom and pairing I have very much loved since the beginning, and a story I simply had to write, even if only for myself.
> 
>  
> 
> Want a peek behind the scenes of writing these stories? Got a prompt or idea for a fic you'd like to see? I write for all manner of fandoms and ships! Drop me a note on my Tumblr: [afangirlreadsfics](http://www.afangirlreadsfics.tumblr.com)

Joker will give up his chair before he admits it. Alright, so maybe that's a bit extreme, Joker isn't about to give up flying for anyone or anything, but he's not about to admit to any guilt or wrong-doing on his part, is the point. _Of course_ he was spying on the Commander and the Lieutenant, he spied on everyone. As the pilot of the Normandy it is his unofficial job to make sure everybody was playing nice, or at the very least, getting along well enough not to be putting any dents or holes in his ship. It's never been a more important job with all these big bad aliens the commander has been adding to their team, who could do a hell of a lot more damage than your standard Alliance officers. It seems the Flight Lieutenant needn't have bothered though. The Commander has a way of inspiring loyalty and camaraderie in most everyone she interacts with. Kaidan is no exception. Or rather, it seemed that he _is_ in at least one significant way, because if the Commander walked around looking at and putting so little space between her and all the crew like that, Joker _definitely_ would have seen or heard about it before now.

It didn't take scuttlebutt to figure out that Alenko's head was turned, everyone knew the Lieutenant had stars in his eyes from the moment Shepard came on board and Anderson introduced her as his second in command. But determining their XO's feelings for the Lieutenant, was a far less straight-forward matter. The Commander certainly spent a good deal of time speaking with him, but she got to know and regularly chatted with any and all members of the crew about themselves, their missions, going out of her way to see to everyone's needs and concerns, and generally make everyone feel comfortable under her command once Anderson surrendered the Normandy to her. Even the ship's wise-cracking, and admittedly slightly abrasive helmsman.

And _that_ , Joker realized, was what was eating him the most about this whole thing. Why he had to get to the bottom of what might be going on between her and the Lieutenant. Shepard could have gone and talked to anyone about her frustrations with the Council being idiots and grounding them. She might have asked a shoulder of anyone on the Normandy, and safe bet whomever she asked would have taken on the job gladly. He'd have offered his. Probably ( _definitely_ ) wouldn't have even said anything if she happened to hug him too hard and bruise or crack a rib. But she asked Alenko. She very nearly _kissed_ Alenko, according to the whispers from one of the supporting members of the crew who had happened to walk by their cozy little alcove at just the right moment, before secretly scurrying back the way he came.

Not that the Lieutenant is a bad guy, or anything. A bit of stick in the mud maybe, but Joker supposes while a sense of humor might be near the top of his list for traits he seeks in people he wishes to interact with, there are in fact worse things someone could be. Hell, he rather liked Kaidan, despite the fact the Lieutenant could be a little too much of a tight-ass about rules and procedure. Maybe that's why the fact that he is willing to ignore the regs about fraternization comes as such a surprise.

But perhaps it shouldn’t. A man (woman, or even an Asari it seemed) would have to blind to not take at least some notice of the Commander, and not just the way you could feel a kind of electric ripple through the air when she and her formidable biotics entered a room. She carries a surprising amount of strength in her short and smaller frame, and confidence, but it was more than that. She wasn't stunningly beautiful, would never exactly be the sort of woman whose face arrested passing strangers in their tracks like all those ridiculous romantic old vids. But she isn’t ugly either. More of an unassuming, next-door beauty, bright and warm blue eyes to compliment her auburn uneven bob, and a kind-looking face, her lips more often than not turned up at the corners in a small, subtle smile; which was really something with everything she had been through, both in this mess with Saren, and well before meeting any of her current team and crew, losing her parents and friends, her home on Mindoir.

The first time she made her way up to the bridge to introduce herself, she felt almost... Familiar, somehow, and not just because of all the vids and posters the Alliance has used for recruiting after she made herself the hero of the Skyllian Blitz. No, the feeling was deeper, more personal somehow, but the connection evaded him. It sounded ridiculous, stupid even, when Joker tried to put it down to words in his head later. When would he have seen or met her before now? She spent much of her childhood in one of the colonies; he’d spent his own hoping from station to station, and one hospital and medical bed to another. He'd never been much of one for any sort of religion, or past lives or anything like that, but it was true all the same.

Of course that didn’t stop him putting his foot in his mouth. She had only been trying to get to know him a little better, but he’s had more than enough, a lifetime, of people questioning his ability to be a pilot with his condition, so he’d distrustfully jumped to the wrong conclusion, and chewed his commanding officer a new one, probably securing his position as her least favorite member of the crew. Afterall, even after a little awkward back-paddling on his part once she’d confessed she hadn’t even realized he was sick having only just taken control of the Normandy and gaining control of the crew’s dossiers, he hadn’t exactly been friendly explaining the origin of his nickname. Or at least so he’d thought. He might have known a woman who made her name and a career of never backing down, wasn’t about to do so simply because her pilot was prickly with her.

He had never been _uncomfortable_ in any cockpit, but the Normandy's got just a little bit better and brighter, more comfortable like his well-worn hat, for Shepard watching the screens over his shoulder, or the occasional visits late at night when she couldn't sleep always bringing him some tea, or a crap cup of coffee with her, just to talk.

Joker had never really been one for making friends, or getting too attached. He's enough of a military brat to know you don't get to choose your post when you're as low on the pole as he is. Making friends, getting too comfortable with a ship and her crew, it just means more to lose when either you move on or they do. Maybe it's the pressure that makes him crack, that finds him bending that rule. The fate of man and alien-kind, the very Galaxy is pretty much at stake afterall, so yeah no pressure, or anything. But he finds, despite their rough start, he likes her. Shepard doesn't give a shit about his condition so long as it doesn't affect his work, and isn't giving him any pain. And only cares about the latter, not because she doesn't trust him to work through pain or injury-he would hardly be much of a marine or Alliance material if he couldn't- but simply because, despite having only recent met and starting to work with him, she cares. Shepard seems to care about everyone under her charge, and none of them are beneath her no matter what their post or how small their duties.

He suspects, although he doesn't ask, that she's done some Extranet research, or at least had a chat with Chakwas since discovering his condition, because Shepard comes back from one visit to the Citadel with a frankly _hideous_ fucking pillow for his back that turns out to be surprisingly comfortable. Not that he will admit as much, or let anyone see him actually using it. But it's the little things like that; joking about the coffee sludge, the synthetic meals, different planets and systems, the late night talks about the scuttlebutt, the crew, the mission, their pasts, hopes and idle dreams for the future... He’s never had as good or as close a relationship with any of his previous commanding officers. He’s not sure it’s entirely professional, at the very least it’s certainly not conventional, but he can’t say as he’s truly bothered by it though. She's slowly worked her way under his skin, quite without his noticing, and now he can't be rid of her. He doesn't want to be rid of her. On the contrary, he wants more, far more than he knows he will ever get. But if being her friend and a confidante is all that's on offer, he's not too proud to take what he can get. Shepard is a fantastic friend to have after-all, probably the best.

The Commander might not be conventionally beautiful, but she is undeniably attractive in her own way: the way she cares about others, her poise, her grace, her wicked sense of humor, and ability to dish sarcasm and deadpan right back at him without missing a beat had been more than enough to reel him in. But she was the XO, then Spectre, then Commander Shepard. _Off-limits._ And yeah, Joker might be known to like to make fun of the rules and tight-asses like Kaidan, or Nilus, but he's aware most of them are there for a good reason. The Normandy is a ship unlike any other in The Alliance, and the fact of the matter is whether or not the commander believes his own hype about being the best pilot around, he is indisputably the most qualified to fly a ship like the Normandy. She needs him as her pilot, so he's not about to risk screwing that up or making her life still more difficult than it already is by putting her in the uncomfortable position of turning down and still having to look at and work with a lovesick cripple. He's always known this little crush he has developed for Shepard isn't ever going to go anywhere; he's not stupid. He just hadn't figured the Commander might be one to ignore or break the regs against fraternization. And it was a lot easier to ignore and dismiss his crush, when he'd been able to tell himself it wasn't allowed because of their careers, rather than to own up he'd lost her to another man.

Joker likes to think he's used to coming in last where any sort of relationship or romance is concerned; most people don't see or spare much thought for the crippled guy. He has done his best to convince himself it doesn't bother him anymore since he works his ass off to make sure he comes in first as the best goddamn pilot in Alliance space. That it's not so important, or even too much work with the kind of patience and caution that would be required for him to share any sort of physical intimacy with someone. He knows how to touch and please himself without hurting or breaking anything, and it's been so long since he's had anything else (which hadn't really been that great in the first place), he doesn't feel as though he has much to complain about. But _this_? This thing with Shepard and Alenko? This bothers him. More than he could have anticipated, and much more than he'd care to admit. Because the Commander doesn't seem to have any problem with a man who's also in Alliance blues, just him. And that sucks.

Joker doesn't bother spying anymore once their course is charted for Ilos. He'd be torturing himself, and he's smart enough to know it. Everyone is taking stock, busing themselves and drawing strength from whatever comforts them, and with Mutiny, Treason, maybe even Kidnapping on their list of charges, fraternization is the least of anyone's worries. So he stays at the helm, even though the ship can chart the course well enough on its own for now, and does his best to think about anything-, or nothing else, because for all his jokes about being brittle because of his condition, he's still got a decent sense of self-preservation in him, and he'd never admit as much, but his heart may just be as fragile as the rest of him.

Ilos is a clusterfuck, and that's putting it mildly, but then everything starts tumbling down like dominos: Shepard and the ground team are suddenly back at the Citadel fighting Saren and Sovereign, and the Normandy and a good portion of the Alliance fleet are having a firefight above the arms with the Reaper forces, and saving the Council's flagship... There simply isn't any time to process everything as it's happening, much less dwell on the fleeting wave of petty jealousy or disappointment that sweeps through him at the thought that he could be on the ground, supporting and protecting Shepard with- _or even instead of Alenko_ -if his body hadn't betrayed him well before he was even born. He's learned better than to indulge those thoughts of self-pity a long time ago. So he helms and protects the Normandy instead; keeping her safe, whole, ready to pick up and whisk his Commander wherever they are called to next once this whole ugly mess is over. And it is ugly, Joker thinks watching parts of the arms burning, pieces of Sovereign come crashing down. It never occurs to him that Shepard might be dead though, even as some of the rubble begins crashing into the tower. After everything the Commander has seen and done, Joker's half-sure she's indestructible. The higher powers he doesn't believe in must love her as much as everyone else does.

But he listens to the comm chatter from Anderson's search and rescue team anyway, waiting to hear that familiar voice relay their next move. He hears a somewhat discomforting amount of silence instead. Anderson is talking to someone, telling them it's alright, that it's over now, they are safe, and Joker can hear his relief, so that must mean he's found the Commander's shore party: Kaidan, or maybe Garrus, but then Anderson's asking about Shepard, and there is nothing. Silence that lasts too long, the soft usual static and white-noise over the comms, a shallow intake of breath, and no response... For what probably only truly amounted to a minute or more, but feels like an absolute eternity, Joker feels numb. He can't move, can't breathe, because losing Shepard to Alenko was rough, hurt more than he's had the time to completely come to terms with, but he isn't ready to lose her completely yet. He can't.

Then in an instant, she's alive again. He still hasn't heard her voice, but he knows that can only be what Anderson's hushed _"Oh thank God"_ means, and the pilot can breathe again. And he doesn't care if she's with Kaidan. Doesn't care if she never sees him as anything more than a reliable friend and pilot she can trust. Doesn't care how much it hurts, or how long it will take him to hobble his crippled ass up to the tower to meet her, he's got to see her. He needs the proof that she's alive staring back at him, to know that she's okay. He circles around the arms until he manages to find a mostly intact landing pad for the Normandy and takes her in, radioing their position to their team's channel, then Anderson's just in case Saren or Sovereign knocked out their comms in the fight.

Joker curses his way up the torn-up steps, feeling the burn in his legs, and yeah maybe there was something to Chakwas attempts to guilt him into getting more toned leg muscles, but it’s not as if he does marathons like this on a regular basis, or plans to make a habit of it. There’s rubble, both from the Citadel itself, and pieces of Sovergein, various disabled or destroyed Geth, but there’s also her: Commander Shepard, a bit dusty and probably a little scraped and bruised, but standing on her own two feet well enough, seemingly not much worse for wear. And really what is any of the destruction, or the rest of it compared to that?

There is a respectable, but limited amount of space between her and the Lieutenant when he finally reaches them. Large enough to keep the brass satisfied, but small enough anyone with an eye for body language (or eyes at all) to see the two of them are close, intimate with each other. He supposes he will have to get used to seeing it sooner or later, for all that fighting the Reapers and Chasing down Saren have lead them all to be slightly more reckless and impulsive decision makers, Shepard isn't the casual sort. If she's decided that Alenko is worth throwing away the regs, she will have already considered the possible consequences and fallout, it won't be for a one-off. He knows when she spots him over the Lieutenant's shoulder that her smile, and the gentle pat on Kaidan's shoulder before she starts walking over to him doesn't mean what he would like it to. This isn't one of those old Earth vids, there's no kiss or declaration of love waiting for him, and he's definitely not the leading man here. But she is definitely happy to see him, she hugs him like she hasn't seen him in months not hours, and pathetic as it probably is, at least for now, it's enough.

The initial adrenaline rush of thinking Shepard was dead, then the relief of knowing, and _seeing_ her alive is fading now. The stress of his long hike through the rubble to get here has taken its toll, and Joker's finally starting to feel it. The Commander seems to know it too, her eyes already sweeping for a sturdy place to sit before gently guiding without smothering him over to a small wall for them to sit on.

"I'm fine," Joker says quickly, the words instinctive, more out of habit than because they are actually true. The more accurate assessment is that he is sore, exhausted, but Shepard is alive and relatively unscathed for all they have been through, and Joker is pretty sure he's managed to get through this without fracturing anything, so he's fine.

"I know you are," Shepard nods with a small knowing sort of smile; indulgent, without being patronizing. "How'd our baby hold up?"

He's rarely so much as considered babies before, and he knows that's not what the Commander is talking about but the idea of sharing something precious, even if it's just a ship rather than something more sentient, well, he likes it. It's not necessarily better, but it's certainly something different than what she shares or would talk about with Alenko, who is the Normandy’s sometimes-copilot mostly just in name because he knows enough to pass for a secondary navigator to the helm, and is moderately experienced with driving the Mako.

"A few new scratches, maybe some scorch marks across the hull, but she'll clean up nice enough. She's flight- and relay ready whenever we next need her to be, Commander."

"And you say you can't dance," she teases with a smile. Joker laughs, and shakes his head. It was a throwaway line, something he said right in the midst of giving her hell when she’d taken over for Anderson, but that she seems to remember it all, perhaps even verbatim, makes him tempted to cringe a little. He wonders if she remembers all their conversations so well, she seems the type to somehow, even with everything else she has on her plate she always seems to find the time, energy, and space in her head for the things and people that are important to her. It's humbling, even if she will never quite think of him the way he'd most wish, that he makes it somewhere on that list. There's a fleeting thought that maybe if he hadn't been so gruff at first, if he'd been more like the Lieutenant, if he might not have had more success getting her to see him as something else, perhaps something more than her flight Lieutenant, and an eventual friend, but Joker doesn't let himself dwell on it. It's just a pipe dream.

"I'm-" she hesitates trying to produce the proper words for what it is she wants to say, and the pilot thinks that _this_ is a side of the Commander, already being heralded as the 'Savior of the Citadel' that few get to see, or will ever know, certainly not something they'll get in the vids: that she's in fact just as human, with the same strengths and weaknesses, and potential for awkwardness as any of them. He loves her for it. Loves that he gets to be one of the few people that gets to see her like this.

And yet, there's no need to be awkward, not really, because there is nothing she can say, or bungle saying that is going to change the mutual respect and care they have for one another. "I'm really glad you're okay," she admits finally, allowing her hand to settle on the concrete between them just beside and brushing slightly up against his. Joker nods, and tries to ignore the way his heart aches worse than his legs are right now, ignores that little voice, the impulse that has him wanting to turn it over and take her hand in his, or something even more impulsive and stupid. It's a kind of ' _I love you_ ,' Joker thinks, even if it's not the sort she would offer Kaidan.

"You too," he replies with a small smile. He feels like he should be making a joke, it's more or less the role he's been relegated and taken on for himself with her and the Normandy crew. Maybe something about not wanting to lose the betting pool on whether or not one or all of them were getting out of this Saren-Reaper mess alive, but is a little distressed to find he's too tired to be anything but sincere. The Commander is far too smart, even in the haze and coming down from a fight, not to notice but is kind enough not to say anything. So they sit there on the wall beside each other in comfortable silence, until Anderson comes back for a more complete debrief.

 


	2. An Impossible Goodbye and the Luxury of Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want a peek behind the scenes of writing these stories? Got a prompt or idea for a fic you'd like to see? I write for all manner of fandoms and ships! Drop me a note on my Tumblr: [afangirlreadsfics](http://www.afangirlreadsfics.tumblr.com)

Doctor Chakwas is the first to approach him after the nearest Alliance vessel has picked up the last of the Normandy's evac pods. Distantly he thinks perhaps she's said something to him, but everything sounds muffled, and he can't seem to focus well enough to listen, much less to muster a reply. No doubt the doctor is doing a preliminary visual sweep of him for injuries. Joker doesn't know if he's injured, or rather what parts of him are. He thinks his arm may have been fractured while Shepard pulled him up and helped rush him over to the last pod, maybe a few sprained ribs, but he can't be sure, the truth of the matter is his entire body feels like it's in agony, and somehow simultaneously disconnected from him. He can't hear anything but the echoing vacuum of space and his shouts, desperate pleas for Shepard as her fist slams down on the eject button and the blaster doors slam shut, shielding him from yet another attack. He thinks maybe he screamed, his throat certainly feels raw enough to have done so, it feels as if some part of him still is, but he can't make a sound.

Kaidan spots him from where he's being looked by another Alliance doc on a bed across from him, then begins looking about the medical bay of their rescuer's ship frantically, before he's crossing the room, and picking the pilot up, throwing him against the wall behind him, demanding to know where his lover and their Commander is. It should hurt. This should be excruciating, Joker thinks, but he's in too much pain already to register any more, to catalog any new injuries this show of force will rain upon his body. Pupils widen instinctively as a hand, glowing with biotic power tightens around his windpipe, but he doesn't struggle, can't even bring himself to raise his hands to fight the chokehold. Why should he?

He deserves this. He _wants_ this. This doesn't even begin to measure up to the kind of horror and pain Shepard will have been in after the final devastating hit on the Normandy resulted in her getting spaced, spiraling out into the darkness, writing, and gasping for that last breath. The powerful biotic the rest of the team are fighting to pull back off of him is right to be furious with him, Shepard wouldn't have still been on the Normandy when it met its end if he hadn't been so fucking stubborn, so fucking stupid.

"Kaidan, stop. You'll kill him," Liara yells, sounding scared.

 _Please,_ Joker thinks hoarsely gasping for air as he slides down to the floor, when they've finally separated them, a barrier keeping the other biotic where he is, while Chawkas is examining the pilot again. _Please, just let him do it,_ Joker thinks brokenly, _let him kill me_.

"He killed her," Kaidan is shouting, though he's stopped trying to claw his way out of their hold on him and back over to get a piece of him again, so Liara drops her barrier. _I did,_ the pilot thinks brokenly, _I killed her._

"Lieutenant Alenko," Chakwas says, still crouched beside the Normandy's helmsmen, her body a makeshift and unspoken shield in front of him in case the other man gets any more ideas about hurting him, trying to bring Kaidan back to himself by reminding him of his title and the possible fallout of attacking a fellow crewman. "This isn't helping. Look at him," she gestures. "He's in shock. He's non-verbal. Joker couldn't offer you or anyone a debrief, or defend himself right now if he tried."

"The Commander wouldn't have wanted this," she tries adding, a bit softer, more the motherly tone she sometimes employs when it’s clear Kaidan is still seething.

"Shepard is dead," the Lieutenant replies angrily.

"Yes, she is," the doctor nods sadly.

"And it's _his_ fault," Kaidan accuses, nodding to Joker, before storming out of the med-bay.

 _Yes, it is,_ Joker thinks.

 _Broken collar bone, four cracked ribs and several more bruised ones, fractured radius..._ At some point the pilot begins tuning the doctors out. It wasn't the worst, or even the longest laundry list of injuries he's ever sustained. Life was a hell of a lot harder, and filled with a lot more injuries visiting his family planet-side with its higher gravity, than it has ever been on stations or at the helm of his baby. But it's the worst he's seen in awhile. Not to mention, it's impossible to tell what happened as a result of trying to escape the Normandy, and what was caused by Alenko's wrath. He could bring him up on charges, but he's not that much of a dick.

He can't blame the Lieutenant; for the beating, or the furious glares he gives him every time their paths accidentally cross while each of them is debriefed and providing deposition to the Alliance and Council about what happened. It does get tiresome though. He knows by now after going over it so many times, and even once with an Alliance shrink: he had his reasons for staying at the helm as long as he did besides simply being stubborn. He evaded the other ship's attacks and kept the ship flying for as long as he possibly could, plenty more of the crew (perhaps most) might have died if he had abandoned his post sooner. He was doing his job, and Shepard did hers-looking after her crew, and making sure that everyone that could get out did. But it doesn't change the fact that the team member he, and many more, cared most for is now gone.

There's a funeral service held for her. They haven't been able to recover her or the other dead crew member's bodies, the planet the remains of the Normandy crashed down on is too hostile an environment this time of its year. But it's been a few weeks, so the Alliance has finally decided it's time to honor and say goodbye to the first human Spectre and the Savior of the Citadel.

Anderson, who seems to have become a kind of father to Shepard after she lost her own and forged a new home amongst the Alliance, delivers the eulogy, and some of her team and crew offer up a few words of their own. He declines. He can't think of anything he wants to say to all these people, just her. Hackett talks about everything that the Commander did for the Alliance and humanity, but Joker doesn't register most of it. For all that she has done, and as much as they claim to appreciate it, nobody will talk about the Reapers that are at least _partially_ responsible for her death. It’s probably paranoia, he’s used to sitting in front of a bunch of glowing screens, holograms and keypads, not hundreds of people, but it feels like a lot of people are looking at him. He wishes it were simply because of the braces, and the crutches beside his chair, but it feels a lot less curious, and a lot more accusatory.

She used to joke about never seeing him without his cap, so even though he feels a lot more exposed than he's used to or would normally prefer, he didn't wear it today. He shaved too, though he did it for her, not because of any rules or tradition, or the other boys in blue would be more comfortable. It’s stupid of course, he’ll never know now whether she would have preferred her pilot clean-shaven or not. He did bring the cap though, even if he didn’t wear it, and when the bigger crowds have taken their leave and only those that knew her best remain near the marble marker, he lays it on the ground beside one of the many bouquets. A kind of a tribute, an apology... There's so many things he wants to say, even more that he regrets he never had the time or nerve to say while she was still alive, but the words won't come.

They're not much of a team without her to unite them anymore, this might be the last time they see one another. Tali is headed back to the Fleet, Liara mentioned something about Illium, Wrex and Garrus are both going home... Even Alenko has a plan, of the Normandy's crew he was one of the few smart enough to button up and fall in line when the council decided to deny the threat of more Reaper attacks. He's been promoted, offered a position working with various human and Alliance outposts in the fringes of Council space. For his part Joker can't understand how this is the same man who nearly beat him to death for killing the woman he loved, that’s eyes still burn with unfiltered anger and blame every time he looks at him, pissing on her memory and everything she stood for and against, just to save his own neck and career. He supposes Alenko always was the better soldier of the two of them.

Joker feels lost. Adrift. He’s lost his baby, his friend, the woman he- Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. The realization that his feelings had not been just some passing crush are just as futile now as they were when Shepard was still alive. What was the old Earth expression? _As useful as a bald man finding a comb._ He got a pat on the back from the brass, told he did the right thing over Alchera fighting to keep the Normandy flying, saving most of the crew, but the Alliance has told him to take some time. Nobody wants to touch him now he's killed humanity and the Citadel's savior. He doesn't know where to go, but he's never done well being grounded.

They're saying goodbyes to one another over drinks at Flux that evening, when he catches another of Kaidan's bitter sideways glances, and finally snaps.

"Look Alenko, you keep glaring at me like that and your face is liable to get stuck that way, so why don't you just say whatever it is you want to get off your chest and be done with it? You really think you're going to tell me anything I haven't already thought of?" The rest of the group has gone strangely silent watching the pair of them, while trying to look busy or distracted by their drinks.

"You think I don't know this is my fault? There is not a damn thing, in this galaxy or any other, that you can say to me that's going to make me feel any worse or guiltier than I already do. I watched it happen! I watched her writhing and gasping for the last breath she was ever going to take, knowing it was my fault, and I watch it happen again every single time I close my eyes. Just because she chose you, doesn't mean you have the corner market on grieving. You are not the only person to have loved or cared about her."

By now most heads turn to Liara, because let's face it, everyone on the goddamn ship knew how starry-eyes she had been, and Joker's not the sort to have many friends or any confidantes among them to know how much losing the Commander has devastated him too. Karin is looking right at him though, like the doctor knows he's not just talking about the Asari in their company, and Joker can't stand it. She's always been able to see through his bullshit, been undeterred by his abrasive attitude and sarcasm to keep everyone at arm's length, in a kind of almost-motherly sort of way. Maybe it comes with being his doctor, with knowing and seeing the kind of pain he frequently suffers that makes it easier for her to see through the mask and the many walls he's built up to protect himself. He wants to hug her and hide from her at the same time. Of the team that's dissolving, all headed their separate ways, he thinks he will miss her the most.

Alenko doesn't actually say anything more to him after his little outburst, but he does at least stop shooting glares at him. As mouthy as the pilot usually is it probably seems impossible, but Joker is just fine with the way the others give him plenty of space and more or less ignore him for the rest of the night. He drinks far more than he should while avoiding the still concerned doctor, and returns to the room he's rented out in the wards hoping rather than believing perhaps he's consumed enough beer and shots to avoid dreaming.

It doesn't work, but that doesn't stop him from spending the next few months trying. Karin attempts to see and talk to him a few more times; tries to assure him that it isn’t his fault, that Shepard cared about him and wouldn’t have wanted him to torture himself with her ghost like this. Some part of him knows that’s true, but he just can’t let it go. Eventually she’s assigned to an outpost on Mars, and Joker is finally as alone as he’s long since felt.

There's an unfamiliar woman standing over the edge of his bed when he wakes up after one morning many months later, and the pilot shouts in alarm, doing his best to scramble up into a seated, more defensive position, as quickly as his crippled body will allow, cursing his lack of preparedness. _Why doesn't he keep a gun under his pillow or at his bedside?_ There's a fleeting thought that perhaps Alenko has hired this woman to have him taken out, payback for his killing the woman he loves, but the Lieutenant is far too much of a Boy Scout, too straight-laced, for that. And if he were going to do that, why wait so long? Hell, why not wait longer; he must be well on his way to trashing his liver by now with his drinking habits. Anyway if she had wanted him dead, Joker reasons this woman could easily have done so before he had woken up.

It still doesn't explain how exactly she got in, or what she is doing here in his room though, the man thinks, eyeing her warily. She doesn't look like the sort of entertainment that can be bought in the darker, seedier parts of the Wards. Too well and modestly dressed to be in the business of selling her body, though it is certainly well proportioned... Anyway, who the hell would be buying _him_ a prostitute or escort, he thinks, shaking his head. And that's when he spots it, sleepy and hungover eyes still blinking awake and focusing land on the orange and black emblem.

"Cerberus," he scowls, recalling how often missions that produced the organization's name or revealed some involvement had been synonymous with unethical experiments, senseless violence and death. How often after such missions Shepard found herself talking with him over coffee in the cockpit for fear or inability to sleep. Much as he couldn't truthfully deny he had enjoyed the company, it never got any easier seeing the normally so confident and unshakable force that was Commander Shepard so rattled.

"Mr. Moreau," the black haired woman smiles, nodding. "My name is Miranda Lawson. My employer has a business proposition he believes will interest you."

He doubts it. "And if I say no," he asks cautiously. Miranda, if that's really her name, simply shrugs.

"Then we will find ourselves another pilot. I was given to understand however that you are one of the best in Alliance and Citadel space, and that following the destruction of your last ship, you have been grounded." The words sting, though there's nothing dishonest or inaccurate about them.

Joker wants to fly. Was born to. He gets an almost itchy nervousness coursing through him just beneath the skin whenever he is away from it for too long, and the Alliance hasn't given him any kind of timeline for when they might take him back. But he can't really fly for Cerberus, can he?

"Was," Joker finally manages to reply, scrubbing his face with his hands, fingers tugging a little through his hair in an attempt to better wake himself and push away the hangover. "I _was_ the best pilot in the Alliance and Citadel space," and the fact that he isn't even trying to be his usual cocky self is a mark of just how much everything that happened on Alchera has gotten to him. Cerberus always seemed to have their fingers in all the pies, it seemed hard to believe that they wouldn't be aware of exactly why he still wasn't flying again yet.

"Psych still won't clear me to fly again," he continues, because that's the truth of it, he's as much grounded himself as it has anything to do with the Alliance. They can't look at him without seeing the man who let Commander Shepard die any more than he can every time he takes a seat at a helm, or closes his eyes.

"Yes," Miranda nods unperturbed. "We believe we may have something for that," she replies.

"I've already tried meds, and I'm not about to take my chances on any new or experimental drugs your Cerberus is offering," he laughs shaking his head, but it all sounds hollow, still feels hollow even after all this time: the space where the Normandy and Shepard, his old life was, a black hole inside of him, threatening to swallow him up. Still, he's not about to let himself be turned into some lab rat, not without at least putting up a good fight first, anyway.

"Not drugs Mr. Moreau," she shakes her own head. "Closure," she continues, pressed a few buttons on her omnitool, before his own lights up with a message. He opens it and freezes as a video pops up on the screen.

"Where did you get this," Joker demands forcing himself as quickly as he can manage without injuring himself to swing his legs off the bed and stand, distantly aware he's not very threatening standing there in his boxers and a t-shirt on his skinny, scarred and creaky legs, crutches lying on the floor on just the other side of his bedside table. But for _this_ he can stand, _will_ _stand_ on his own, until he gets some goddamned answers.

"I set it up this morning," Miranda replies coolly, and Joker looks at the video once more. "It's a live feed."

"But she's dead," he argues, unable to tear his eyes away from the image on his omnitool. It's a trick somehow, it has to be. _She's dead, and I'm the one who killed her,_ he thinks. "When did you-" _find her body?_ "How long-" _have you had the means to so many people's closure?_ He shakes his head, trying to form one coherent question, the one that burns through him terrified and furious at the same time. Miranda on her part seems content to wait to answer him until he can actually get out a full question. "What have you done to her?"

"Everything we could," she replies without a moment’s hesitation. "She's undergone nearly three dozen surgeries, implants, procedures, and tests. It was at least twenty before we could even consider her condition stable."

"Her condition is that she's dead," Joker shouts angrily.

"Not anymore," Miranda smiles.

"That's impossible."

"Difficult. Expensive. But not impossible, Mr. Moreau." The _not for us_ seemed to be implied, but he heard it well enough. Just because they could though... What all had they done to get her like this? How much had she suffered? And why? What the hell could Cerberus possibly want with her, she certainly has never done them any favors before. A million questions burned within, many at the tip of his tongue and yet only one came out. The most selfish, the most desperate, the one that showed his hand the way that small smirk on Miranda's face says they had anticipated from him.

"Where is she?"

"At one of our stations. There's a shuttle waiting for me at the end of the street. I can take you to her as soon as you're ready." Joker doesn't think he's ever gotten dressed and packed so quickly in his life.

She's too still; lying there on the medical bed surrounded by dozens of machines. But there's plenty enough beeping noises and little wavy and zig-zag lines on various screens meant to indicate signs of life. He wants to believe it. Joker is desperate to believe that this could be true. But...

"How do I know that's really her? That she's really alive," Joker's voice comes out so much more plaintive and uncertain than he means for it too. Fragile in a way he resents anyone else hearing, particularly this strange, smug woman, working for Cerberus.

"I suppose you don't," she replies sounding unconcerned even as his entire world is threatening to fall apart. Joker lets himself press in closer, or perhaps more accurately collapse against the glass wall that separates him from the lab studying the machines and instruments, but most importantly the woman on the table. "Not until she wakes up at least."

"And then what?"

"Well, you already know the council is doing their best to dismiss Sovereign as a one-off, and discredit her statements and testimony about the Reapers. But we know better. She knows the Reapers best, and she’s the best one to unite and lead us in the fight against them. Humanity, whole other alien races and galaxies need Commander Shepard. We don’t have the luxury of losing and letting her stay dead. And once she's back on her feet again? She's going to need a pilot.”

 _And fuck._ Just like that, they have him. And that cocky bitch beside him knows it too. She must. God how he'd love to wipe that 'cat got the cream' look off her face...

He doesn't know if that's his Commander in there lying on the table, or not, but if there is absolutely any chance at all it could be true he will never forgive himself for abandoning her to these people and fighting this battle all on her own. He _owes_ her this. Owes her more than he can ever give her, and loves her more than he can ever tell her. So he'll do what he's always done: he'll fly her to the ends of this Galaxy or that one, straight into hell itself if that's what she needs or asks of him. Because if there's one thing he's learned he will never do, it's let her go. So he'll find a way to fly again. Not for Cerberus, but for her. There's nothing he wouldn't do for Shepard, later it will occur to him to be concerned that Cerberus has somehow figured that out, but right now he's still fighting to take it all in.

Miranda is saying something about her boss, about being able to offer him a retainer until Shepard has recovered and been woken up, until she needs her pilot again, which is good, because he's all but exhausted his paid-leave with Alliance, but it's not really as if he was ever much of a big spender, and maybe now Shepard might be back he won't need to spend so much of his checks on alcohol.

"One condition," he manages to choke out, interrupting something she's saying about Cerberus having some ideas about therapies to help better his disease. He knows it's not much, knows he isn't in a position to ask for Cerberus to get the whole team back together, even if it were possible. Hell, it's not even an entirely selfless request, but he will need a doctor to oversee his care, one that he trusts, and Shepard will need as many familiar and friendly faces to deal with this as they can get. Besides who better to see to his case than someone who already knows it well? He watches her relay his request on her omnitool and wait a few moments before it lights up with a small ping indicating she's received a reply, and she nods. They'll make it happen.


	3. Ancient/Recent History

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As we know with all fanfiction, these characters, world, etc are not mine. There are some lines of dialog which are featured in this chapter, and more that will appear in future chapters which come from the original material. No ownership is implied in its usage, this story is exclusively for entertainment purposes. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Want a peek behind the scenes of writing these stories? Got a prompt or idea for a fic you'd like to see? I write for all manner of fandoms and ships! Drop me a note on my Tumblr: [afangirlreadsfics](http://www.afangirlreadsfics.tumblr.com)

_Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit- annnnd... Fuck._

Shepard has been awake for little more than a few hours now and already she's had to fight for her goddamn life again, because Cerberus had a turncoat in their ranks that decided to open up the small medical lab station to the Geth and turn the mechs loose. She was supposed to be allowed another few weeks in her medically induced sleep-state to finish recovering from the last of her surgeries first.

She is alive. Thank the stars. Currently in the comm room being briefed by the Illusive man. It very easily could have been otherwise. Of the hundred or so people on the station, Shepard and her two Cerberus escorts where the only ones to make it out. But Shepard may well have set herself back fighting to get off the ship.

He's never been more pleased to hear about senseless violence than when he hears Miranda wasted no time in shooting the traitor responsible at point blank range. The idea of losing her again, before he's had the chance to apologize, to atone for his guilt, just when he's finally begun to allow himself to believe all of this could be real, that _she_ might be real... It was more crippling than his disease had ever been at its worst.

Hell, Joker has barely recovered from his own procedures, although it's still a bit surreal he's making his way down to the main level on his own two feet without any crutches. Dr. Chawkas reviewed the science and logic behind the treatments they offered to improve his condition and confirmed they were sound. Expensive as hell, but sound; and had supervised the procedure to make sure they didn't try to add any extra bells and whistles, or little surprises for him.

He might not trust Cerberus yet, but he has to admit this has further shaken his confidence in the Alliance. The medical treatments that Cerberus have given him aren't exactly top secret or cutting edge. How was it the Alliance had never considered this for him? Hadn't he done enough, given them enough years of his life, risked his neck enough to justify the cost? And if they had... Maybe he could have hobbled to the escape pod by himself. Maybe Shepard wouldn't have-

She'll want to see him after she's done speaking to the Illusive man, they tell him. _He hopes that's true._ There's not a chance in hell he would have missed the opportunity to see her again, to help her- if she will have his help, but there is still some small terrified part of him that worries Cerberus has made a grave miscalculation bringing him on board. That worries those fathomless and so often bright blue eyes won't light up to see him again. That she might well blame him for her dying in the first place, and everything that has happened since. That she could hate him.

He's been trying his best not to dwell on the possibility, but waiting in the wings for her to finish her conversation with the Illusive man, there's nothing else to distract him from those anxious thoughts now. _What will he do, where will he go, if she doesn't want anything to do with him? What does he have left? Who is he, if not her snarky, creaky-legged pilot?_ Somewhere along the line, and quite without his realizing it or meaning to, she's become- well, nearly everything to him. So Joker does what he knows and does best when he's scared, uses his humor and deflects it.

"I think I've found a pilot you'll like," he hears the Illusive man say as the call is wrapping up and his omnitool pings to summon him into the room.

"Hey Commander, just like old times, huh?"

The look of confusion, surprise, then finally relief that grace her features is a balm to all the anxious thoughts that have been gnawing at him at the thought of seeing her again. She is genuinely relieved, if a little shocked, and happy to see him. She doesn't hate him for getting her killed. This is the best news he's had since first finding out she was alive.

He does his best to keep his tone and the conversation smart, a bit playful,and light, the way she will remember it once being. Yes, she's been a work in progress, a science experiment for Cerberus for nearly two years now, but she's only just woken up, to her mind she is only just now back from the dead. The last thing she needs is to be burdened with just how devastating her death was to him, particularly since it was his fault she died in the first place. It's hard to avoid the topic entirely though, and of course she's going to ask about the rest of the team and crew.

"It all fell apart without you Commander. Everything you stirred up, the Council just wanted it gone. Team was broken up, records sealed, and I was grounded. The Alliance took away the one thing that mattered to me. Hell yeah I joined Cerberus."

It's a gross oversimplification, and he knows it. Hell if she's half as sharp as she before her rebuild, she probably knows it too, but she doesn't push him on the subject. Doesn't force him to confront or admit that there is one more thing or rather one person, who matters to him even more than flying, and that too was taken from him. Not yet at least, directing her questions more towards her own doubts in all of this which have been apparent from the start, obvious in the slightly pinched look of discomfort at the corners of her eyes every time she catches sight of that Cerberus emblem on his, or her own suit.

"You really trust the Illusive Man?"

 _No_ , he all but burns to say. But he's afraid. Cerberus has given him his wings, his commander again, even made his legs stronger. Still it isn't so much that he feels like he owes them his loyalty (he's no easy sell, and he knows they're still keeping secrets), as it is that the pilot is terrified they'll change their minds and find a way to take it all back. The Illusive Man may have wanted Shepard exactly as she was before the Normandy was destroyed, but the fact of the matter was that that woman didn't trust Cerberus. Miranda had made it clear he should do his best as her friend to steer the Commander towards doing so. The organization spent a lot of time and money to bring Shepard back from the dead, but their funding and resources appeared to be limitless. It would be a pain, certainly, but they could always make another, more obedient Shepard if it came to that.

He can't lose her again. He won't.

She won't believe him if he's suddenly falling into bed with an old enemy without questioning their motives in all of this though. He wishes he were a better actor, that there might be another way, than lying to her. But he can't very well tell her that he would do or say whatever he has to to save her, to protect her, the way he failed to last time. Joker knows he will never be what she wants, but the knowledge does nothing to lessen or sway his heart from her. He has to find a balance, a way to keep Miranda and the Illusive man happy, and Shepard safe. He will. He must.

"I don't trust anyone that makes more than I do," he says, managing to sound something like his old self again, and toeing the fine line of the truth and the lies he's been encouraged to tell. "But they aren't all bad. Saved your life. Let me fly--"

Jacob at least seems a decent man... If maybe a bit mislead, working for someone like Miranda and the Illusive man. And it will never entirely make up for the atrocities Cerberus has both allowed to occur and committed in the past, but Shepard is _alive_ , standing just beside him in front of the overlook for the docking bay, and that's pretty fucking incredible.

"And there's this. They only told me last night. It's good to be home, huh Commander." The pilot watches as she draws in a shallow breath looking at the new Cerberus duplication of their old ship. And perhaps it had not quite been so in the same way that it had for the helmsman, but the Normandy, Shepard, the familiarity of the crew, had always made it feel like home to Joker. This isn't their home. Not exactly, Cerberus has made some changes, added their own orange and black touches here and there. But it could be. He could make and easily see it as such if the Commander does. He would follow her anywhere.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Joker knows he's just another pawn on the chessboard. That he's being played, made a tool for Cerberus. For all that he is a frankly fucking incredible pilot, the shadowy organization could just as easily have hired from within. But a familiar face from her old crew might just be enough to convince Shepard to let her guard down and garner a little faith in Cerberus and the Illusive man. And this is probably just another token to try and buy their loyalty, but he can't quite help his excitement showing her the ship.

"Want the tour, Commander," he asks with a smile. She's clearly still taking it all in, but after a moment she nods.

Joker is still, and perhaps for the first time in his life, trying to keep his feet on the ground. It's still possible this could all be a trick somehow, that the woman falling instep beside him on their way up the ramp to the airlock is merely a pale imitation of the real thing. He's not had nearly enough time to observe or interact with her to be certain of anything. But he hopes. He hopes as he never has before, with everything in him, that this might be real.

The helmsman barely has time to confirm that, 'no there shouldn't be anyone else on board yet', before she's hugging him as fiercely as she can without actually hurting him, burrowing her face into his chest in the middle of the scan and decontamination process. They've never touched before, not like this at least- familiar and comforting squeezes of a shoulder or a hand, sure-but nothing so close-quarters as this, and for a moment he is too stunned to do anything but stand there. _God, he hopes she's real._

"You're alive," she whispers softly, finally lifting her head from his chest. "You're okay."

"Uh- yeah," He doesn't know what to say to that. Shepard is looking at him like just seeing him is a miracle. Like he's the one that's been returned from the dead.

"But where are your crutches," she asks confused, gently taking a step back, but keeping her hands gently on his arms. "Shit, I'm sorry! You've been walking without them all this time... -Are you alright," the commander asks uncharacteristically tentative for a woman as accomplished and badass as she is, and Joker rather hates himself for the way he's always bitten her head off whenever she asks about his condition before now, for making her so cautious and uncertain in caring about him now. _What an ass, he's been._

"Yeah, you aren't the only one Cerberus did some patching up on, Commander," he smiles, trying to shrug off his discomfort.

"You let Cerberus work on you?"

"Well c'mon Commander, what's the worst they could do to me? They'd be pretty hard pressed to make me any more brittle or crippled than I already was," Joker teases, doing his best to sound nonchalant.

"Jeff," she whispers sounding wrecked, and his heart stops, because once again he knows he's said exactly the wrong thing. Joker can only recall one other time she's used his first name, and the incident immediately comes flooding back to him: when she had been fighting to tear him away from the controls of the crashing Normandy. "-Please don't talk like that," she pleads shaking her head.

 _This woman died for him_ , he thinks, internally kicking himself. For some, completely unfathomable reason, she valued his life as being equal to her own, had been relieved seeing him again, but more importantly to see that he was alive and unharmed after she made the ultimate sacrifice to try and save him. And what has he done to appreciate or honor that sacrifice? This is the woman he loves, and he's hurting her.

"You're right, I'm sorry," he apologizes quickly, shaking his head too. "Commander-" Joker begins softly, fighting to keep the nervousness out of his voice now he's speaking seriously, preparing to lay himself bare without the idle distraction of flashing screens or buttons to play with. A few fingers twitch out of nervous habit.

"Look, I'm not saying I blame you, or that you didn't do the right thing back on the original Normandy..."  _Because how fucked up would that be,_ he thinks,  _blaming her for saving his sorry ass._ "You saved my life, stopped me from going down with the ship. But there was nothing you or anybody could have done to spare me watching you get spaced and knowing it was my fault. I'm not saying I'm not grateful-" Joker continues quickly, although he's not altogether sure what it is he's trying to say and the fact he hasn't already planned it out or come up with some smart remark makes him feel a bit edgy. _What the hell is he trying to say?_ Shepard looks torn between saying something, and letting him finish getting out whatever it is he wants, or perhaps even needs to say, before seeming to decide on the latter.

"I watched you die," he says softly. "And I didn't really handle that well. I didn't expect I would need to."  _And how stupid is that in the kind of work that they are in, and with the kind of things they have seen and fought off together? Never conceiving that he might lose her one day?_ "I didn't know how to," he admits sheepishly, shaking his head too. He's never lost someone as important to him as her before. "Look this isn't fair. It's a lot to take in, and I know you've just woken up, maybe you're still finding your feet. I really didn't plan to heap all of this on you, you've got plenty more import things on your plate already," the pilot says dismissively.

"Jo- Jeff," the Commander interjects finally, cutting off what was quickly threatening to become babbling excuses for why he needs to run away as fast as his newly improved legs and the reinforced braces beneath his pants will carry him. She lets a hand gently drift to cover his arm for a moment, and if his name wasn't enough this certainly brings his mouth and mind to an abrupt and screeching halt. "It wasn't your fault." _God, he wishes that he could believe that._ "Besides you aren't exactly dredging up ancient history here, like you say I just woke up. What happened on the Normandy didn't happen that long ago, not for me."

"Maybe, Commander. Sometimes it feels like that, that it only just happened for me too. But other days... I lost my best-, maybe one of my only friends in that attack. And I had to live with that, had to live with the guilt, the blame- without you, for nearly two years."

"I don't blame you." _Yeah, well she's only had a few hours to really think about it so far,_ Joker thinks doing his best not to get his hopes up. __Give her some time to process it all, and no doubt she'll start to see it.__ "I never will," she continues, because yes, Shepard was always good at reading and hearing the things others didn't actually bother to say. "You are the reason most of the crew survived."

 _But you died_ , he bites back. And he knows what she's saying. Understands the reasoning of sacrificing one for many, it was no different than what he tried to do staying at the helm for so long while the ship burned and crumbled around him, but it wasn't supposed to be her. She was too important, too special to lose like that, Cerberus obviously thought so too spending as much time and money as they had in bringing her back, although for much different reasons.

"It was never your job to save me Jeff," she continues softly, squeezing his arm a little where her hand covers it, and drawing him back out of his thoughts.

"Yeah," the pilot nods. "I know," he confirms. Maybe one day he will actually believe that, but for the moment, Joker rather doubts it. He feels incredibly vulnerable, distinctly uncomfortable with the way this conversation has suddenly become so much about him. Talking and thinking about everything that happened with the first Normandy, recalling the nightmare, and the fallout with the rest of the crew afterwards... It's a bundle of nerves and exposed live wires, and he can't be sure what he will say or reveal of himself next if he's forced to keep confronting and dealing with all of it. _Which is ridiculous isn't it? He's had two fucking years he's pissed away trying and failing to come to terms with it, Shepard is the one that should be a mess about this, but she's the same as she has always been- that steady constant, his anchor and port in the storm._ Just once, Joker wishes he could be that for her. Wishes that he were stronger, that he could be what she needed.

"I'm glad you're here," she continues with a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth, an inkling of that familiar happy spark in her eyes as his brown ones meet hers. "I can't imagine anyone better at the helm for this."

"Yeah, well I am the best," Joker replies, trying to laugh, but kicking himself when it falls short of sounding entirely genuine.

"I wouldn't want anyone else," she confirms with a nod, and _God, she really means that_ , he thinks completely disarmed. He clears his throat, while he struggles to come up with something intelligent to say to that, before giving up.

"So how about that tour now," he asks, trying to change the subject to something lighter, even as he's aware it's not the least bit subtle. _At least he's managed not to defensively snap at her this time,_ he thinks.

"Lead the way, Lieutenant."

"Not sure that title applies anymore," he admits with a shrug towards the 'C' on his sleeve, as he slowly makes his way down the bridge towards the CIC.

"Damn, whatever will we call each other now? Pity our parents didn't have the forethought to give us actual names." She's teasing him, he realizes, actually laughing for the first time that he can recall since she and the Normandy were lost.

"Yeah alright," he concedes with a chuckle. "But it's still just Joker for the rest of the crew, and it might take me awhile, Shepard, old habits."

"Emilia," she interjects with a smile. "I don't know how I never told you before," she admits looking a little bit sheepish. "Best friends ought to know each other's first names, don't you think?"

 _"I'm_ your best friend," Joker manages, gaping a little. And somehow the title doesn't sting as much as he had been expecting it to. He's always known somehow that he wouldn't ever be on her radar as someone she might be interested in something more intimate and romantic with, but he never thought of himself as her best or most treasured anything, besides perhaps her pilot. But more significantly it's something of a surprise that she doesn't consider Kaidan her best friend. True he, like the rest of the team has moved on and up in the world in the time since she has been gone, but it probably only feels as though it's been a day or two for her. Joker isn't in any hurry to bring up the other man, or give her any cause to change her mind about it though.

"I'd like that," she confirms with a small smile. "Gotta have someone on my side with all these scary and secretive Cerberus operatives on board, right? Only, maybe don't tell anyone," she winks playfully. "I know everybody from the old team has drifted apart, but if word gets back to them somehow Garrus or Wrex might be apt to get jealous."

"Oh, so I'm Emilia Shepard's best _human_ friend," Joker smiles, shaking his head, and clutching a hand dramatically over his heart as if this clarification has somehow wounded him. "Well I suppose a guy will take what he can get." She laughs, and right then the pilot resolves to do his best to keep her doing so as often as he can. They have a long, no doubt difficult, and maybe even impossible fight ahead of them. It isn't the first time they have faced down impossible odds, but he doesn't have the delusions he once did about the great Commander Shepard being somehow invincible, untouchable, the way he once did. He'll be damned if he takes the opportunity for a second chance, a little more time with her, for granted. "That's alright. You're great and all, but I've seen enough to know better than to risk actually pissing off those two. Besides Cerberus didn't reinforce my bones enough to withstand a Krogan skull if Wrex gets any ideas about headbutting me."

Joker smiles as Miranda and Jacob board the Normandy the following morning and proceed to show her around the ship. She might of course be humoring them, too polite to tell them her pilot has already given Shepard the grand tour, but he notices tracking their movements throughout the ship that many of her questions are subtle probes to determine their moral compasses and faith in Cerberus. _Smart._ But then, he's always known and admired her cleverness, chuckling a little at her entirely correct assumption that the pilot will not be happy about their being an AI on their ship, as he begins firing up the engines and charting their course to Omega so she can get started building up their new team.


	4. Surveillance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want a peek behind the scenes of writing these stories? Got a prompt or idea for a fic you'd like to see? I write for all manner of fandoms and ships! Drop me a note on my Tumblr: [4vraFangirl](http://www.4vrafangirl.tumblr.com)

Zaeed is an interesting character. There is definitely something there in his past he's not disclosing, but hey who doesn't have a secret or two they prefer to keep? Anyway he's new, give him a couple missions to figure out what the Commander is all about and she'll win him over; she always does. What the pilot is less certain about is being alone on the Normandy with their newest recruit while Shepard heads into the quarantine zone with Miranda and Jacob to look for the Salarian professor.

It shouldn't really come as a surprise coming from Cerberus, but somehow he thought the Illusive man might have waited a bit longer than their first mission out to allow for any seeds of doubt in his organization or leadership to be planted. Neither he or Miranda had mentioned a damn thing about any deal with the Mercenary to secure his help. Shepard being Shepard of course has promised to see his last job through, and he knows she will be good to her word, but it seems a bit ridiculous to be wasting valuable time on a mission that's not connected to the Reapers and Collectors.

He still hates EDI. Oh he's heard the spiel, how she can't actually take the helm or ship from him, how she'll help keep the Normandy and her crew safe in a firefight. _Yet another constant reminder of what he failed to do with the first Normandy._ It's actually not such a bad idea to have someone else wholly devoted to weapons and defense when the occasion arises, but Joker has never liked AIs, and he definitely doesn't like EDI. He just gets the sense that she's always watching and listening, and Cerberus made sure to install helpful little terminals for her all over his new baby.

So he's not actually speaking to her when he asks what an unfamiliar command option is when it pops up on his console, but it seems he can't truly have conversations with himself anymore, because that little blue ball blinks to life and answers him anyway.

"That opens the menu for the sensors and suit cameras from the ground crew, Mr. Moreau."

He means to ignore her, but surprise gets the better of him. "You mean the Normandy can watch their progress and monitor the life signs of the shore party?"

"That is correct. The Illusive man wanted to be able to provide Shepard with the ability to better review and analyze her missions spot strengths and room for improvement, and further analyze Collector and Reaper activity."

"He wanted to keep an eye on his investment you mean," the pilot replies skeptically. "Does Shepard know that you and Cerberus can watch her every move?"

"I am afraid I cannot confirm or deny that, I can only relay what knowledge I have and am allowed to share."

"So which is it, you don't know, or you aren't allowed to tell me?" When she doesn't immediately reply, Joker shakes his head, of course she would be quiet now he actually wants some answers from her.

"Can **_I_**   watch the missions," he asks cautiously, the words barely more than a whisper, not really even something he meant to utter aloud.

"It is highly irregular for the ship's pilot to monitor any more than the comm chatter relayed directly to the vessel."

"Yeah, yeah, but do I have the clearance, or did the Illusive man lock me out of that too?"

"It could prove a distraction."

"Now? From what," Joker laughs a little. "We're docked, and if we need to beat a hasty retreat, like you say, they'll call it in."

"Your access to the life signs and suit cameras is unrestricted, Mr. Moreau," EDI replies finally.

"Thank you," Joker replies with a heavily put upon sigh, while rolling his eyes with a nod. _Was it really that difficult to just say so?_ God he hated artificial and virtual intelligence.

He doesn't in fact open up the feed from the suit cams. Only a small tab in the corner of his screen that reads the life signs of the shore party. He's not sure that he wants to see the kind of stunts Shepard gets up to. He's heard about quite a number of them after the fact (He's still a bit disbelieving that she actually held a gun to Zaeed's head while he was pinned beneath some rubble after the merc through a temper tantrum that the Commander prioritized survivors over his revenge. How that inspires loyalty he'll never know, but damn if that man hadn't fallen in line after that), watching the events as they unfold though could prove something else entirely. He's content simply to see the continuous spikes that indicate the Commander is still alive and fighting, her heart as strong as it ever has been. Sometimes he still wakes up in the middle of the night, terrified he's dreamed it all up out of some inability to accept her death. If the silent AI beside him thinks anything of his decisions about surveillance of the ground crew however, she has the sense to keep quiet about it, at least for the time being.

If Joker thought that Zaeed was an interesting character though, it's nothing compared to the impossibly fast babbling Salarian that the Commander brings back with her. Joker isn't altogether sure about and is generally suspicious about any of the Cerberus crew, so the verdict is still out on Kelly Chambers, but the young woman's assessment about Mordin being something like a hamster on coffee seems pretty damn accurate. No doubt about it, the alien is a brilliant scientist, but Joker isn't entirely sure what to make of him yet. He seems a bit stuck up. Not that anyone is asking his opinion on their new recruits, of course. What does the pilot know anyway?

Shepard used to ask him about such things, but there's scarcely been a moment to breathe since they landed on Omega. She's still coming to terms with her death and rebirth, getting back into routine and missions, but he's inclined to think that Cerberus, and maybe even the Commander, is pushing herself too hard for just coming out of the gate with all of this. And, perhaps a bit more selfishly, Joker misses their late night chats in front of bright glowing screens and the endless stars and planets passing by. But EDI is just directing Mordin to the tech labs where he can begin his work, when the Commander is rushing off again after this "Archangel" before the bands of mercs have him killed. _Please Emilia,_ the pilot thinks as he dashes passed and out the airlock, _be careful._ It doesn't feel right some how saying as much aloud. She's Commander Shepard. She will be fine, besides she certainly doesn't need a creaky-boned pilot worrying over her. He calls after her to 'kick some ass' instead.

Garrus-fucking-Vakarian. _Archangel is Garrus!_ Joker doesn't think he's ever been so excited to hear that big ugly Turian bastard's voice over the comms in his life. Another friend, another familiar face, someone the Commander could trust to have her back. Seeing him carried in on a stretcher though... For one terrifyingly moment he had feared the worst; that they would find their old friend and compatriot, only to lose him. Shepard would pull herself up by the bootstraps, would finish the job that was asked of her, humanity- whole galaxies- were depending upon her, but some small part of her would be forever lost with her dear friend.

Cerberus probably thought that was a weakness, he's sure Miranda does, something somehow beneath her with all of her fancy genetic upgrades and modifications: the tenderness of the Commander's heart, but Joker thinks it's a marvel. That someone who has seen so much pain and hurt could continue to love and care for others, and so unreservedly. She set herself up for more hurt, but she has so much more to fight for than any of the Illusive Man's flunkies. And wasn't that just her way, the Vanguard of the Alliance and Mankind, charging in head first and fighting like hell? No guts, no glory.

 _Who's like us_ , Joker thinks with a small smile, checking over the Normandy's systems to make sure they are flight-ready when she returns from medical and gives him their next destination. For what 'damn few' there are, there's certainly nobody quite like his- their Commander.

There is no copilot chair in the new Normandy, he realizes, as Shepard comes to stand beside his chair, leaning casually against the wall, and perhaps not so casually blocking the little glowing blue ball that occupies that space. It's not as if EDI doesn't have plenty of other cameras about the ship to compensate and monitor them from, and there's nothing they can do to be certain the AI won't be listening in, but Joker smirks a little in appreciation at the gesture all the same.

"Hey Commander," he greets, turning his chair 90 degrees to face her.

"I thought I told you to call me Emilia," she smiles softly.

"Well, I believe I did warn you it might take me some time to get used to it," he shrugs.

"Yes I suppose you did, didn't you?"

"So, I assume everything's going well up here?"

"Sure," the pilot nods with a smile. "We were just having a little argument over personalization of my work-space."

"Cerberus regulations are clear, Mr. Moreau," chirps the little blue ball of light from behind Shepard, prompting her to scoot over a little to look at it, before she seems to realize there aren't any true eyes or semblance of a face to make contact with while listening to the AI. "Personalization does not include grease on my bridge cameras." Joker smirks, and for a moment, he could swear he see the Commander fighting back amusement.

"It's just mad that all it's footage of me looks like a dream sequence," Joker quips, and this time he knows for a fact she's biting the inside of her cheek to halt any laughter from bursting forth.

"So hey, we got Garrus back! That's great, because he was totally my favorite… with that pole up his ass," The pilot smiles up at her. "Guess you won't be needing to come up here as often now you've got your real best friend back, huh?"

"That you're way of telling me to shove off Flight Lieutenant Moreau," the redhead asks, the slightest hint of a smirk curling up at the corners of her mouth. "Because if you wanted me to leave you and EDI alone, really all you had to do was say so."

There she is, he thinks with a soft but appreciative chuckle, before doing his very best impression of being offended by the thought. The smart sassy young woman he knew and came to care so deeply for more than two years ago now is still in there somewhere, just a little buried under all the confusion and chaos of being brought back from the dead and immediately thrown at the Collectors. That's alright though, he's not afraid to get his hands a little dirty trying to help dig her back out. For all his teasing, both with her and the Turian himself, Garrus is a good guy. Jeff doesn't have a doubt in his mind if it somehow comes down to the three of them fighting their way out of Cerberus and the Illusive Man's grasp he'll have their backs. Alright so maybe it isn't just Shepard that's pleased to see another familiar face in all of this.

EDI makes a kind of an odd chirping sound when the Commander finally takes her leave to go back and check on their newest teammate and old friend. ' _Gotta go make sure the stubborn bastard is actually getting some rest like the doc ordered.'_ Joker does his best to ignore it at first, it shouldn't bother him. It could mean any number of things, the AI does in fact have other duties it performs besides trying to annoy him, but it's just so strange having that little blue ball just sort of... hovering there watching his every move. If it were a human he'd say she was paranoid, maybe a micro-manager.

"EDI?"

"Yes Mr. Moreau," and if the AI is at all surprised that the pilot is in fact initiating a dialog with her, the voice for all it's complexity and programming to imitate human inflections doesn't waiver a bit.

"The bridge cameras- they're not the only ones on the ship, are they?"

"No, they are not."

"Where are the others?"

"There are cameras to monitor all major traffic areas of the Normandy to insure security and safety for the ship and crew, Mr. Moreau."

"Are there any in less trafficed areas?"

"I'm afraid my blocks prevent me from answering that question."

"Uh-huh," the pilot nods. Well, he will definitely want to let the Commander know somehow that she might want to check her cabin for spies or bugs. "Okay well, maybe you can tell me how long that data is stored for."

"Of course, video logs are kept on my local databases for one week after they are recorded so they can be reviewed by Commander Shepard, or XO Lawson if necessary."

"And after that?"

"All video footage after that length of time has elapsed is passed on and backed up on Cerberus encrypted servers."

"And who has access to them after they leave your local databases."

"Only the highest levels of clearance within Cerberus that have access to Project Lazarus."

"So the Illusive Man."

"It can be assumed, yes."

"Right."

"Is there anything else I can assist you with, Mr. Moreau?"

"I don't know," the pilot mutters shaking his head. These blocks the Illusive Man put on were a damned nuisance. Every other answer seemed either to be a dead-end or some kind of cryptic riddle. It was enough to give a guy a headache. "No, not right now."

"Very well, then I shall return to working on calculating possible offensive and defensive tactics for various hostile encounter scenarios."

"Yeah.. you do that."


	5. Walking with Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want a peek behind the scenes of writing these stories? Got a prompt or idea for a fic you'd like to see? I write for all manner of fandoms and ships! Drop me a note on my Tumblr: [4vraFangirl](http://www.4vrafangirl.tumblr.com)

_Alchera._

The coordinates pop up on his console, directions to a place it sometimes feels he's never left. To a planet and system of stars, he still tries not to see on those rare occasions when he tries to get some actual sleep. But the planet is a desert, a frozen wasteland. There are no outposts there. No one they could be heading out to meet or pick up there. _No one living,_ his mind corrects, and suddenly his throat feels tight, his chest heavy. No. Just no. The Alliance has asked a lot of them over the duration of their respective careers, but this? It's been two fucking years. Nevermind that the Alliance has spent those 730+ galactic days denying the threat and even the existence of the Reapers, and pretty much re-writing everything Commander Shepard fought and died for. Fuck them, Joker thinks, fury burning inside of him. They can send someone else.

"Mr. Moreau, your vital signs are elevated and increasing, suggesting high levels of stress. Should I-" the blue glowing holographic chess piece beside him begins.

"No fucking way," he ejaculates, ignoring EDI entirely. Admittedly, it's probably not really the Flight Lieutenant's place to be telling his commanding officer what missions she is and isn't allowed to take and when, but the words are out of his mouth as soon as she's made her way to the cockpit before Joker can give a second thought to stopping them. "Em-" he tries again, softer this time, and making an effort to use something more personal as she had requested, rather than simply referring to her by her title.

"Jeff," she interrupts before he can get anything else out. He bites his lip to force his mouth shut, already knowing he's not going to like anything that she has to say about it. "They were our crew, our family," she says softly, avoiding his gaze and looking instead at the glowing screens, the buttons, and lights that make up the many panels he oversees without actually seeing them. "Fighting the Collectors, me coming back, even if we stay out in the Terminus system... it's not going to stay quiet forever. Their family and loved ones should know we haven't forgotten about them, that they mattered to us. They deserve closure."

"Commander, Garrus might be walking around and back to calibrating, but Chakwas hasn't actually cleared him for field duty yet." God knows the Turian bastard had been up and moving around as quickly as he could sit up, but the fact of the matter was he should preferably still take it easy for another day or two.

"I know," Emilia nods, still staring at the screens.

"You can't take _them,_ " he blurts out before he can help himself. Today seems to be the day for it, though he supposes he's always been pretty good at sticking his foot in his mouth where she was concerned if he's being honest with himself.

"I didn't plan on it," the commander replies shaking her head, sparing a knowing glance back towards the CIC where Jacob and Miranda are talking with another member of the flight deck crew.

"No."

"No," Emilia repeats raising an eyebrow, finally forcing her blue eyes to meet his own.

"You can't go down there by yourself."

"I think you'll find that I can," the commander replies folding her arms indignantly. "I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself," she reminds him. Joker knows that he does, but the point is that _she shouldn't have to_. It shouldn't have to be her against the whole goddamned world all the time. And sometimes these things that people ask and expect of her... it's too fucking much. They're barely into this mission, haven't collected even half of the team from the dossiers that the Illusive Man has given them, for whatever they're worth, hell she's barely woken up, and she's already started showing slight signs of wear and tear for those that know where to look. The crash and everyone that was lost with it, it only happened a few weeks ago for her. Those wounds are still fresh. He's had two years and he's still not over it. Still not sure he's ready, but he is sure she isn't going into this alone.

"I'll go," he volunteers, and it's a completely unnecessary gesture, but he slides out of his comfortable leather chair and stands up, because this isn't the same Normandy, but he can't sit in that chair with her at his shoulder while they're talking about this without remembering his stubborn attempt to save the frigate that got her killed. She stares at him for a moment, seeming to appraise the situation, blue eyes looking torn. "Please," he adds even as he hates the way making it a request sounds almost like a plea, just this side of desperate. "Let me go with you."

"Joker, you-"

"I'm a big boy. I can handle myself," he parrots, with something of a smirk. "C'mon it's just setting up the monument and collecting some dog tags. No malfunctioning or hacked Mechs. No Geth. No Collectors. Cerberus is actually working _with_ us this time," he offers with a small chuckle of disbelief and a shake of his head. "No bad guys shooting at us. It's hardly even a field mission."

"By that logic, Garrus should be able to accompany me just fine," she points out.

"Yeah, but you know he'd spend the whole time bitching about how cold it is. Remember Noveria?" Shepard laughs, and it's all too brief, but seeing her smile again- it's addictive the rush that it gives him, knowing that in all of this mess he can still bring her to do so.

"Alright," she agrees finally with a nod. "Just make sure we've got suitable fitting gear for you down in the shuttle bay. I'm not losing my pilot and the best helmsmen in the galaxy to exposure or frostbite."

"Aye, aye, Ma'am," he grins, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders and offering a small salute, before returning to his chair once more, and returning his attention to the screens to chart their course. He's still not entirely thrilled to be going back to that damned planet again, but perhaps he can at least offer some kind of moral support, if only by being another body there with her, someone who was there and might understand some of what she might be thinking or going through. Maybe, just maybe if there's some kind of sense of justice in the cosmos the two of them can find a kind of closure there as well.

"Should reach orbit in about three hours. I'll let you know when we make our approach," he offers. The commander nods and makes her way back towards the CIC to inform her XO of her plans.

"Your vitals are back within normal range again," remarks the AI beside him evenly, startling him from what he was doing and causing him to scowl a little; for just a moment he had almost been able to forget it. _Imagine that_ , he thinks scathingly, rolling his eyes. Though, now that he's thinking about it, why does the ship's AI, their automated manager of the Normandy's Cyberwarfare have access and monitoring for his vitals? The ground crew made sense enough, he supposed, but it wasn't as though- well prior to his volunteering to accompany Shepard planetside on Alchera- that he actually went on any missions.

"You were... concerned for the Commander." It doesn't sound much like a question, so the pilot doesn't immediately respond other than to snort.

" _Somebody has to_ ," he mutters under his breath, mostly to himself more than the damned snoop that illuminates the left side of the cockpit.

"Yeoman Chambers is-"

"Is probably plenty good at what she does," Joker interrupts cutting the AI off, because he'll be the first to admit that so far as he's seen up to this point Cerberus as spared no expense with the resources they've furnished her with, staff included. "But she's still Cerberus, and Em- the Commander-" he catches himself, "saw and broke up plenty enough fucked up experiments and incidents when we were tracking down Saren to be wary of you guys. The Alliance pretty much trains you not to show any signs of weakness, and Shepard is one of their best. She's not going to open up and start pouring her heart out just because Chambers smiles and is a good listener. Besides, she doesn't know her like I do."

"I see," EDI chirps, before falling silent. Joker can't tell if she's considering this new information, or simply has nothing more to say on the matter, and not for the first time finds himself growing increasingly frustrated with not knowing, though he supposes since EDI is omnipresent and always listening, a conversation with it is never so much finished as it is temporarily paused until the AI sees fit to speak up again. It only serves as yet another reminder that Shepard's right, this isn't really the old Normandy, their baby. It's a Cerberus ship, and there are eyes and ears everywhere. With a sigh, and confident that the ship will sustain itself on auto-pilot until they near the relay, he decides to get up and grab some coffee.

He can't really say later what it is that leads him to make a detour to the Salarian's lab on his way back. They've not really had much interaction with one another. Mordin has no real reason to have much to do with the ship's pilot, and well... he's not much of a people person. Getting to know and make friends with the crew had always been more of the Commander's department than his own, so Joker's not entirely sure how to feel about their new doctor, but pretending to be anything other than out of his depth is just stupid, and it certainly isn't going to fix anything. With everything that Shepard is doing for Cerberus, and humanity, hell the galaxy at large, she deserves at least a little privacy, and with Mordin's history with the STG, he's probably the best candidate to be knowledgeable in finding and getting rid of intrusive surveillance.

The Normandy does indeed have a "bug problem" Mordin confirms. And he's more than familiar with finding and how to destroy or disrupt them having done so with the 20 or so he uncovered around his laboratory. The scientist promises to search and take care of the Commander's cabin while they're on Alchera. Joker wants his goddamn bridge back. Wants her to be able to come up to see him with shitty coffee and stories about the latest mission, to be able to unburden herself without EDI, Miranda, or the Illusive Man possibly tuning in, finding new soft spots in her armor, ways of manipulating her, he wants to be able to talk to himself again without the AI adding her two cents, but it's a start, a step in the right direction, so he'll take what he can get. Answering some questions about his condition, and letting the guy poke and prod at him wouldn't exactly be his first choice, but it's a small price to pay for a little peace of mind.

Joker thought that it was generally pretty quiet up in the cockpit, now that it's just him and EDI up there, but as soon as the shuttle engine cuts off and they step out into the frozen wasteland of the crash-site, he's forced to amend his assessment. They're planetside, but somehow this feels far more like a vacuum than the black star-strewn skies he flies them through, like the silence, broken only by the occasional gust of wind- muffled through the helmets of their suits- might somehow crush them. He wants to say something, anything, but his throat clenches up at the sight of all the familiar and twisted metal scattered across the landscape, and the thought _I did this_ flashes through his mind before he can put a stop to it. He's all for smiling and laughing his way through uncomfortable and inescapable circumstances and situations, but cannot think of any worth telling now. He follows slowly behind the Commander instead, careful of his steps so as not to slip, because the last thing she needs is to worry about or take care of him in the midst of all this, and points now and again when he spots any sort of remains or the glimmer of a dog tag. They've collected about half of them when it starts to snow softly, the sun beginning to set on the horizon. It could almost be one of those photos from early travel agencies once mankind discovered the Mass Relays about all the beautiful sights of planets and galaxies beyond the Sol system, except it's a graveyard.

Shepard spots it first, but even from many yards away he knows instinctively what he must be looking at. Cerberus wasn't entirely forthcoming about just how they retrieved Shepard's body, but he's vaguely aware it was from an even less reputable source, who probably had, even more, sinister designs on it. Whoever went to the trouble of finding her left the rest of the men and women where they fell. Left their dog tags and personal effects in the snow for the two of them to dig up and retrieve two years later, and left her N7 helmet-battered and scorched where it had gone through reentry with her amongst the dead and the wreckage. Joker puts a gentle hand out on her shoulder, doing his best to emote sympathy, caution, and concern in a suit that doesn't really allow for them to see one another's faces, and wonders if she gets it, but eventually she turns to face him, nodding, before walking away from him and his touch, trembling hands lifting the helmet from the snow and holding it up to examine. He's beginning to doubt whether or not he's actually been any help by insisting that he come with her when she's suddenly dropping to her knees and shaking. The pilot has never moved faster than he does to close the gap between them, carefully lowering himself to the ground beside his Commander. She doesn't look up from the dog tags clasped tight in one hand, her old helmet in the other, until he wraps an arm around her shoulder, carefully guiding her closer towards him, mindful of the additional weight of her armor and his body's limitations, and is rewarded when she _melts_ into him.

They sit together for awhile before she finally draws in a deep and shuddering breath and straightens up, pouring the tags into the helmet. Joker takes the hand she offers to help him up and is pleasantly surprised when she doesn't let go but holds it in fact until they have collected the rest of the tags and make their way back to the shuttle. She takes the copilot seat rather than any of the seats in back and rips her helmet off almost as soon as the shuttle is sealed up and re-pressurized as if she thinks a moment more might suffocate her. _Perhaps she does_ , he thinks guiltily, remembering the events that lead up to the wreckage they just walked and sifted through ending up here.

The pilot doesn't really expect her to want to talk about it, which is just as well really because he certainly doesn't know what to say, but Shepard takes off almost as soon as they touch down in the shuttle bay without bothering to strip off any of her armor, or so much as a word or backward glance towards her companion, and yeah, that hurts a little. Joker can't remember the last time he felt so lost and helpless. Is he supposed to give her her space? Follow her? Let her cry? Press her to talk? He compromises, stripping off his armor, which given the care and effort he has to put into doing so gives her a good head start before he presses the button on the elevator to take him up to her cabin.

"EDI," he sighs reluctantly, knowing he'll damage his knuckles before he can knock loud enough on the heavy door for the Commander to hear him. "Could you let her know I'm outside."

"Shepard is not in her cabin, Mr. Moreau," the AI informs him, her holographic representation popping up at the console beside him.

"Right," Joker nods rolling his eyes. " _Might have been nice to know beforehand_ ," he mutters.

"You did not ask," EDI replies matter-a-factly. No, he supposes he didn't.

"Alright, can you tell me where the Commander _is_ then?"

"She is in the Main Battery, Mr. Moreau."

 _With Garrus_ , he thinks, and he shouldn't be disappointed. He's not. He's glad she has someone she can talk to, someone to comfort her. It's just- well, just once he wishes that person could be him.


End file.
